Wicks pulled the collar of her shirt up to cover her mouth, then closed her eyes and stumbled along the wall, feeling her way until she found the doorway to the basement. The door was sitting open about a foot. She went through it and found the handrail on the left, then worked her way down the wooden stairs, one plank at a time.
The smoke lessened a bit with each step she took, but her breath was still short.
Cough. Cough. Cough.
“Wyatt?”
“Over here!” a voice called out from the right.
She swung her head and opened her eyes. A pair of legs were sticking out along the floor, just beyond the washer and dryer.
Her eyes caught a long streak of color covering the floor. There were also smears of a dark color across the front of the dryer. They looked red, like blood, but she couldn’t be sure, not with her eyes watering and the smoke washing every color into gray.
“Hang on, I’m almost there!” she said, coughing three times.
She could hear her brother coughing as well, but it didn’t sound the same as hers. His was more of a gurgling cough.
“I’m coming, Wyatt!”
She put her hands on the dryer and slid them across the top until they hit the far side of the washer. Her knees bent, taking her down to the ground, where her eyes found Wyatt’s.
“I told you to stay away! What are you doing here?” he asked her in a weak voice.
“Saving your ass,” she answered, seeing a first aid kit sitting next to him on the floor. The lid was open and two rolls of gauze and a pair of scissors were sitting next to it. One of the rolls was partially unspooled and had blood on the end of the exposed material. There was a Glock handgun sitting nearby, too, and an assault rifle.
“Are you hurt?” she asked, already knowing the answer based on the items sitting nearby. Another cough flew from her lungs.
“Yeah, my elbow and my side,” he said with a grimace, leaning to the right. He let out a short cough, sending a patch of bloody mucus from his mouth. It ran down his chin.
“Don’t go outside, sis. Some black SUVs just pulled up and the assholes took a shot at me.”
“I know, I was with them.”
“What? You shot at me?”
“No, not me. The men bringing me here did. They were only supposed to escort us here and provide backup, so I don’t know what happened. They just opened fire when they saw you running. Simon and Slayer are outside, too. I hope they’re okay. Cough. Cough.”
“So let me get this straight. You left your team and just decided to run in here, all alone? In the middle of a firefight?”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a firefight.”
“Cough. Still, you shouldn’t have done that. You could have been killed.”
“I know, I panicked and wasn’t thinking,” she said, peering down as he pulled his shirt up to show her the wound. A wad of bloody gauze was partially taped over it using two strips of loosely applied medical tape.
“Oh my God, Wyatt. That looks really bad.”
“It hurts worse,” he said, coughing and wincing at the same time. “But at least the bullet went through.”
She hesitated, not sure what to do. Then her hands moved on their own and took to finishing the tape job around his belly. She decided to chat with her brother to keep him distracted while she applied treatment to the wound.
“I saw your guys out front. I’m sorry.”
“What guys?”
“The ones in the blindfolds. Cough.”
“Are they okay?” he asked.
“Well, uh . . .” she said, not wanting to alarm him. But he needed to know. “Someone killed them. Was it the Carnegie brothers?”
His head slumped back against the wall and the skin on his chin tightened. He looked like his face was about to explode. “Cough. Cough. How many?”
“Three. I’m sorry.”
“Fuck!” he said as spit flew from his lips under the pressure of his outrage, his lower lip quivering.
“What the hell happened?” she asked.
It took a few seconds, but Wyatt finally brought his head forward and made eye contact with her.
“I was on overwatch when the front of the house collapsed after the shooting started. When I woke up, I was buried in rubble on the first floor and had to dig myself out. Cough. I’d just made it out the back door when your friends showed up. I was trying to make a run for it when someone took a shot at me. Cough.”
“Why did you crawl down here? Into the smoke?”
“First aid kit. Plus we had some extra weapons and ammo stashed down here. It was my only choice.”
“What happened to the rest of your team? I can’t believe they just left you buried like that.”
“Probably thought I was dead and decided to bug out when the artillery started. Cough. Can’t blame them. That’s what I would have done. Fall back and regroup, then reassess.”
“Sean and Sebastian have artillery? Cough.”
“No. It was someone else. They were too well organized and armed to the teeth. Even had RPGs. They must have grabbed some of my men and gunned them down like dogs.”
“Jesus, Wyatt,” she said, cutting more tape from the dispenser. “Are you sure it wasn’t the Carnegies? Maybe they changed tactics?”
“Cough. I doubt it. They’re complete cement heads. No, these men were smart, trained, and systematic.”
“Still, you really don’t know for sure.”
“Look, I didn’t get a close-up look at them, but I can tell you one thing, it wasn’t Sean or Sebastian. The guys that hit us were no moonshiners from the back hills of Pennsylvania.”
“Military?” she asked, working faster. Cough. Cough.
“I don’t think so. They were in jeans and button-down shirts. Cough.”
“You mean, like yuppies from California?”
“Yeah, can you believe it? Jericho taken down by a bunch of Wall Street types.”
“Almost done,” she said, coughing as she applied another strip of tape. Her hands were starting to shake from the emotions swelling inside her body. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
“So are you.”
“What do ya mean?”
“They must have gone other way; otherwise, you would’ve run into them, too. There’s been enough killing today.”
“So you do care about me?”
“Of course I do. Cough. Why would you ever think that?”
She didn’t know why she asked him that question. For some reason, her heart sent it out from her lips without authorization from her brain. Then it happened again.
“Because you moved away! That hurt me, Wyatt. A lot! How could you do that? How could you just leave me like that? I cried for weeks.”
He grabbed her hand and held it to his chest. Cough. Cough.
“Just because I moved away doesn’t mean I stopped being your brother, or that I stopped loving my big sister. Sometimes people function better as a team when they don’t live together twenty-four-seven. We’ll always be a team, sis. No matter what. Nothing will ever change that.”
She nodded and pulled her hand free. She continued working on his wound, feeling a rush of affection from her brother for the first time in years. It felt amazing and was just what she needed. She missed their closeness and his strength. Tears began to fall, both happy and sad tears, all mixed together like what she was feeling inside.
He put a hand on her shoulder while she worked, squeezing it gently. “We are the Wickies and we never quit.”
“Yeah, and look at us now. Cough.”
“Yeah, look at us. My amazing sister is here to rescue me. Cough. That’s says a lot, Tally. Trust me, I’ll never forget it. Not as long as I live. And just so you know, you were right.”
“About what?”
“Cough. Everything. Me playing commando. Thinking I was better off on my own. Let’s face it, had I stayed home, none of this would’ve ever happened and my men would still be alive. Cough. Cough. You were
right, sis. I’m sorry. I was a total douche, and you deserve a much better brother than me.”
“Thanks, but I think that’s the pain talking.”
“No, I really mean it. I swear to God. I do.”
She threw her arms out and hugged him, never wanting to let go. But then he winced in pain, so she did.
He stared into her eyes. “I know I never say it, but I do love you, Tally. Never forget that. Ever.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I love you, too.”
A few seconds of silence hung in the air before Wyatt spoke again. “Did Austin make it to your place okay?”
She wiped the tears from her eyes and cleared her throat, sniffing twice. “Cough. Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if he was legit.”
“Is he with you?”
“No, we left him back at Pandora with Dixie and the rest of the gang. Cough.”
“Good. Otherwise, he’d probably be dead, too. Cough. Cough. That guy’s emotion drives his motion, and we both know that’s never good.”
She smiled, remembering Wyatt’s clever saying from when they were kids. More fond memories flooded her mind as she finished dressing his wound. Her hands moved under his armpits and she began to lift. “We need to get you out of here and to a doctor before you bleed to death.”
He nodded, then screamed in pain when she pulled him to his feet. He put his arm around her shoulder.
“Cough. Cough. Cough. Did you hear those weird sounds a little bit ago?” he asked, leaning on her for support as they moved toward the stairs.
“Yes, oomphs—a bunch of them. Made my ears ring.”
“Yeah, big time. That’s about the time our genny quit.”
She didn’t want to mention the floating objects she saw after entering the kitchen, or that her feet left the ground, too. He’d think she was nuts. “Maybe Simon has some ideas about what they were.”
He shook his head, then winced and coughed four times as they moved. “Cough. I still can’t believe you’re hanging around with some old guy. Some married old guy. Though his wife knew how to kick some serious ass.”
“It’s not what you think, bro. He’s just a friend.”
“Yeah, sure, sis. I’ve heard that one before. Remember the cliffs back in high school? You said the same thing about Sebastian. Then me and my buddies had to take him out in the woods and teach him a lesson. And we all know what happened after that.”
“Well, I told you back then I would handle it. Cough. Cough. I never asked you to get involved with Sebastian or his brother. I fight my own battles, thank you very much. I’m the big sister, remember?”
“Hey, brothers stand up for their sisters. I was just doing my job. There was no way in hell I was letting a Carnegie get away with it. Cough. Plus I needed to send a message to his brother. You know as well as I do that Sean has a few screws loose. A strong show of force is the only thing he understands,” Wyatt said, wincing as she changed her grip on him. The bottom of the stairs was now at their feet.
She nodded. “Yeah, I know. Cough. But still, I had it covered. But that’s all ancient history. Right now, it’s time to let me do my job and take care of you for a change. Up the stairs you go. Take it slow and lean on me. I gotcha, bro, and I’m never letting go.”
* * *
Slayer made his way to the rear of the farmhouse with rifle in hand. He found the back door hanging open and a blood trail leading inside. The lights were off in the house and smoke was leaking out from the doorway along the ceiling.
He figured this is where Wicks went inside to find the injured, probably thinking it was her brother—a man Slayer despised. Not because Wyatt was a bad person, but rather he seemed to bring out the worst in Wicks.
If someone had asked him to describe Tally and her brother’s relationship in one sentence, he’d have to say Wyatt was her kryptonite. Every time they talked on the radio or met in town, her logic would take a vacation. She’d turn into a crazy, emotional mess and sometimes her internal turmoil would linger for days, leaving Slayer to wonder if the real Wicks would ever return.
He didn’t understand why she let Wyatt affect her like that. Why was she so worried about what Wyatt thought of her? A brother who’d left her behind. A brother who’d broken his word to their grandfather and went off on his own to start his own camp in Western PA.
Then again, Slayer didn’t have any family, so he had no frame of reference and certainly no experience when it came to family dynamics. Not since he’d been dumped in the orphanage when he was five and left to fend for himself. If it hadn’t been for Wicks convincing him to join Pandora, he’d probably be rotting in jail somewhere.
Back alley street fighting was his thing—well, it used to be. It was the only job he was qualified to do at the time. Actually, it was the only job he could find that paid, and truth be told, he rather enjoyed it. There was something rewarding about battling an opponent with your own blood on the line, then landing the perfect punch to knock them out. Victory had an exhilarating taste all its own, plus it put food on the table and money in his pocket.
Then reality set in as he got a bit older, losing a few fights along the way. That made for some painful weeks between bouts and some second-guessing on his part.
He didn’t always agree with Wicks, but he owed her. Big time. For saving him from a dead end life and giving him a purpose to keep breathing. Everyone needed to belong to something—it was human nature—and Pandora was his something. He helped G and Wicks recruit the others, so he had a vested interest in it success.
“What are you waiting for?” Simon asked from behind, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We need to get in there and find her. Now!”
“Sorry, got lost in my head for a second,” he said, letting his feet take him inside.
The smoke was thick and suffocating. His lungs started to burn after only a few steps past the doorway. Cough. Cough. Simon’s hand was still hanging on to his shoulder, both of them weaving their way blindly into the recesses of the house.
Just then, he saw movement. Ten feet ahead, down what looked like a hallway. His eyes could see the outline of two people, working together along the wall, one extremely tall and the other much shorter, with longer hair.
“Wicks? Is that you?” Slayer yelled, figuring it must be her. Cough. Cough.
“Slayer?”
“Yeah. It’s me and Simon,” he said, hearing a smattering of coughs ahead.
“Oh, thank God! Cough. I need your help, Wyatt’s been shot!”
* * *
With the help of Simon and Slayer, Wyatt made his way past the front gate, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face for the first time since the storm clouds appeared. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve admired the change in weather, but right now, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t that important—not with what had just happened to his team.
His lungs were still burning from the smoke, making him cough as they moved. He stood over the corpses of his men lying in the road, holding back the rage squeezing his heart. There were no words to describe what he was feeling, looking down at his friends who’d been blindfolded and killed like vermin.
Tally hugged him. “I’m so sorry. I wish we’d gotten here earlier. Cough.”
He looked at her, but said nothing. His hands were shaking and his jaw tense, wanting to kill the world for what had happened.
“We should get moving,” Simon said. “Cough. It’s possible they might double back. The last place we should be right now is here.”
“Plus, you need a doctor,” Wicks added, tugging gently on Wyatt’s bloody shirt. Cough. Cough.
He pushed her away, coughing three times. “No! I’m not going anywhere. I need to bury my men. I can’t just leave them here to rot in the sun.”
“If we don’t leave now, you might bleed out,” she said in a soft, concerned voice.
He shrugged, not wanting to debate his decision. “Then I bleed out. I really don’t give a shit. But I’m not leaving them here like roadkill.”
“Wyatt, I know you’re hurting and I want to be here for you, but we really need to go. Cough. We can’t stay here. It’s not safe,” his sister said, pleading with both her eyes and her words.
“She’s right,” Slayer said, breaking his silence. He, too, was coughing.
“Look, I’ve made my decision. Go on without me if you need to, but I’m staying here. Cough. They deserve a decent burial. I owe them that. I sure as fuck couldn’t protect them when they were alive, but I damn sure will protect them while they’re dead. Their bodies at least.”
Tally sighed, looking at Redfall, then back at him with a pinched brow.
Wyatt took her expression as a maybe. “There’s some level ground behind the barn. Won’t take long to dig after all the rain. Please, just let me do this and I’ll go wherever you want me to go, and do whatever you want me to do. Cough.”
She hesitated, then spoke. “You’ll let me be in charge?”
“Yes, you have my word.”
“And you’ll do whatever I say? Cough. Cough. No matter what?”
He nodded.
She looked at Slayer and then Simon. “Fine. Let’s get this done.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Zeke Olsen felt the speed of the vintage 1960s hearse slow after what seemed like hours. Hours since the men whisked him away from the safe house after executing the contracts they’d brought for him to sign. The long ride had made his butt sore and his mouth dry, plus he wasn’t sure where he was since the windows on the vehicle were completely blacked out, keeping light from entering or exiting.
For the past thirty minutes, his nose detected the woody smell of birch and the distinctive freshness of mountain air as the vehicle’s suspension creaked and groaned during its travels over uneven roads and three cattle guards.
The armed two-man escort team had told him nothing about their destination, other than it would take some time to get there. Even though he was the newly-minted owner and CEO of Indigo Technologies, he respected their silence, not pushing for answers.
The hearse came to a full stop and a few seconds later the side door opened. Light hit his eyes, making him blink. He put up his hands until his pupils adjusted, allowing him to see more clearly. The light had a yellow tint, indicating it was artificial, which seemed appropriate now that musty, damp air was entering his lungs.
Redfall: Freedom Fighters (American Prepper Series Book 2) Page 13